


Late

by scribblemoose



Series: Bonding [1]
Category: Weiß Kreuz
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-10-19
Updated: 2003-10-19
Packaged: 2017-10-08 22:20:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/80077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scribblemoose/pseuds/scribblemoose





	Late

Aya gazed out of the window, barely hiding his irritation from the customer he was wrapping flowers for. He took her money with a forced smile that flashed on and off his face so fast she would have missed it if she'd blinked.

"Thank you," she said, pocketing her change. "Are you expecting someone?"

He forced his eyes back from the street again. "No," he said. "Yes. Not really."

She smiled at him, confusion clouding pretty green eyes. "Sorry?"

"He's late," said Aya. "My shift's over and I have an appointment, and there's someone who's supposed to be taking over from me. And he's late."

"Oh, I see. That's not very fair, is it?"

Aya shrugged.

"I can't imagine why anyone would keep you waiting," she said, looking up at him through thick dark lashes.

A brief flash of panic widened Aya's eyes for a moment before he started to busy himself rewinding a ball of ribbon that was sprawling over the worktable, kitten bait. He didn't answer her.

"Hm, well, thanks again," she said, and turned to go, disappointed. Aya refused to look up until the jingling of the bell had faded to nothing.

Alone again once his customer and would-be seductress had left, Aya took up his station at the window once more.

He couldn't stop thinking about vivid green eyes, soft, dark hair and legs that went on forever... damn. Why did he have to be late, today of all days?

He couldn't stop thinking about Yohji, fresh from the shower, dripping water over the wooden floor, towel arranged so low over his hips that it barely covered anything... leaning in Aya's doorway and smouldering at him, teasing him. Daring him.

Aya had tried so hard to keep his feelings to himself. All these months he'd managed to resist Yohji, working alongside him, wanting him more than he'd ever wanted anyone, keeping it all locked up tight inside him until one, rare, unguarded moment. Just one moment, one glimpse of Yohji half naked and damp in his doorway and he couldn't control himself. He'd walked across the room, intent on shutting the door with Yohji safely on the other side of it.

Somehow when he got there, he stopped. He hesitated, for a second, with his hand on the door handle, and looked into those eyes. He couldn't remember for a minute what it was he'd been going to do; Yohji's eyes were hypnotic, captivating, hungry.

Yohji arched a eyebrow.

Aya realised it had been too long. Suspiciously long. Damn.

"So, Aya," drawled Yohji. "You like the feel of a knob in your hand, huh?"

Aya swallowed hard; it was only when Yohji's face broke into a grin and he nodded down at Aya's fingers, clenched so hard around the door knob that his knuckles where white, that he realised what he meant. He was joking. It was a joke.

He gave a laugh, more out of nervousness than anything else; the joke certainly wasn't funny.

"I often wondered," said Yohji, smile fading. "Whether you're more of a knob man."

Aya didn't know what to do. He was equally tempted to hit Yohji, kiss him, or simply close the door and pretend nothing had ever happened.

"Not that it's any of my business," Yohji filled the silence. "Or it wouldn't be, except..."

Aya could only stand there and stare at the floor, desperate not to get lost in those magical green eyes again.

"Except..." said Yohji. "If I tell the truth, I've been curious for a while."

Aya was struggling to breathe, blood roaring in his ears. He didn't want this. Yohji wasn't supposed to... no. It wasn't supposed to get complicated. He couldn't afford for it to get complicated.

"Sorry, Yohji," he said, wishing his voice was steadier. "I'm not interested."

But Yohji didn't go away, at least not at first. He watched Aya for a long moment, very still. His mission face, cool and determined.

"If you change your mind, I'll be in the greenhouse after your shift. I'll only give you half an hour, mind, I'm not hanging around all day while you make up your mind."

Aya caught his gaze for the barest moment before he closed the door.

And now here he was. Three minutes to go, and...

"Aya! Sorry I'm late, one of the kids sprained an ankle and..."

Aya was half way to the greenhouse before Ken had even finished his sentence.

* * * * * * *

Yohji was all set to leave the greenhouse, by the time Aya got there.

Aya noted a flare of happy surprise in his eyes.

"Now then, Aya. So you decided to keep our date after all. Or was there something else you were looking for? Compost, perhaps?"

Aya scowled at him, asking himself what on earth he was doing here. It was bound to be a big mistake. After all, Yohji liked women, a lot of women, he'd never seen him with a man, he'd never mentioned... it was a mistake. It had to be. Yohji had just been playing games with him, as usual.

"Don't tell me you're changing your mind," said Yohji, and ran the tip of his tongue over his lips.

Aya glared at him through his bangs, trying not to notice that Yohji's shirt was open almost to his belly, and revealed a hint of lean muscle and one pink nipple.

He wanted to lick it. Suck it. Bite it, just hard enough that it would make Yohji squeal.

His lips curved into a faint smile at the thought.

"No," he said. "I haven't changed my mind. Have you?"

Yohji raised a brow. "Hey, I'm not the one who was late, kitten."

Aya's eyes narrowed dangerously; he considered which would be best: to slam Yohji against the bench and then kiss him, or just to slam him against the bench.

He never got the opportunity to find out. Yohji crossed the distance between them in two strides, pushed him none-too-gently against the greenhouse door, and kissed him. Not a chaste, closed-mouth, warm up kiss, either; his tongue swiftly parted Aya's lips and swept inside his mouth, and they were locked together, breath shortening, pulses rising, until Aya was all but melting into Yohji's arms. Yohji raised both hands to cup Aya's face, slowing the kiss down a little, running the tip of his tongue along the inside of Aya's lower lip, his thumbs smoothing over Aya's temples. Aya had lost the power of rational thought: it had been so long, so fucking long since he'd done this, and never, it had never felt like... and oh, but he wanted it so much, from his cock, stiffening uncomfortably in his jeans, to his mouth, tingling under Yohji's kiss, from the pit of his belly that was warm and fluttering with coiling desire, to the trembling fingers that released Yohji's hair from it's ponytail; every last inch of him wanted this, wanted him, wanted Yohji. Now. It had to be now.

"Oh God," breathed Yohji, breaking their kiss but hardly pulling back at all, not even far enough that Aya could focus his gaze on him. "I've wanted this so damn long-"

"Mmm," admitted Aya, and sought out Yohji's mouth with his own, not wanting to stop and think, now the decision was made. He wanted to lose himself in the incredible feeling of Yohji's long, lean body pressing against his, never mind that Yohji was vain and hopeless and nearly as screwed up as he was himself. It didn't matter. None of it mattered, just this, this feeling of bare skin under his fingertips, as he popped the last two buttons of Yohji's shirt and skimmed his hands underneath, working his way up over his strong back, and ribs that were a little too easy to find, up to tease that tempting nipple, rolling it between thumb and forefinger until it was hard and Yohji was moaning into his mouth.

Yohji was sliding his hands inside the waistband of Aya's jeans, teasing the soft curve of his buttocks and the topmost hint of the valley between them. He pushed his hips hard against Aya's, grinding their still captive erections together, and oh, but it had been so long since anything other than his hand or a futon had been pressed against his cock... for a moment Aya thought he might be about to embarrass himself, his need and the novelty of the sensations rushing through him conspiring to snatch control of his body and make him come. He pushed Yohji away, gasping, snatching air into his lungs and willing himself back from the brink.

A brief look of hurt crossed Yohji's face, rejection; then he realised that Aya was still holding on to him by the narrow belt that hung loose around his hips, and a smile curved his lips.

Such fragile pleasure. Glorious, fragile pleasure.

"We could take this indoors," Yohji suggested. Aya noted with gratification that he was more than a little out of breath himself.

"Can't wait," he said, his voice rough and deeper than ever, a voice he knew Yohji had never heard before. "Later."

Yohji moaned softly, as if he didn't dare believe this was actually happening, just a little afraid that Aya would snatch back this gift, even now.

No chance.

Aya stripped the belt off and wrenched open Yohji's jeans, chance alone preventing any permanent damage to buttons or zip. He plunged his hand inside and closed his eyes as his fingers wrapped around warm, hard flesh. Thick. Eager. Fucking huge.

Yohji was struggling to reciprocate, normally dextrous fingers rendered clumsy by the pleasure of Aya's grip. He cursed; Aya started stroking, and finally Yohji got Aya's clothing out of the way. Cool air kissed his cock, and Yohji let out a little gasp.

"Beautiful," he murmured, taking his tongue to Aya's neck and licking up the line of muscle in a broad sweep, lips brushing soft against Aya's ear. "Oh, God, I'm so fucking hard... and you... we-"

Aya clamped his mouth over Yohji's, and started to pump his erection, firm, hard, taking his rhythm from the grind of Yohji's hips. Yohji whimpered into the kiss and reciprocated, his fingers splayed wide over the length of Aya's cock, strong, agile fingers, perfect pressure, perfect grip.

It took thirty seconds, if that, and it was only pure stubborn pride that kept Aya from coming first. Yohji didn't seem to care; he made no sign of restraint, happy to fuck Aya's hand and chase the bliss; he froze when it happened, Aya's cock neglected all of a sudden. His body went rigid, he grunted, his forehead thumped down onto Aya's shoulder and he pumped warm, thick semen all over Aya's still-stroking fingers.

Aya waited, desperate for his own release but at the same time enjoying Yohji's; the feeling of that lean, vulnerable body quivering against him. No smart remarks, no innuendo. Just raw, honest, helpless lust.

Slightly recovered, Yohji raised his head, and with a still-trembling hand raised Aya's come-streaked fingers to his lips, and licked.

Oh God.

Aya wrapped his own hand around Yohji's too-loose grip on his cock, and moved it up and down briskly, until Yohji caught the rhythm and did it on his own, perfectly, still licking come from Aya's fingers. Aya couldn't stop looking, transfixed by the pink tongue lapping cat-like at the sticky white cream, the thought of Yohji, there, here, wanking him and eating his own come, oh, fuck but... oh...Yohji... Yohji... Yohji...

Yohji sighed, voicing the release that Aya felt as his body spasmed and his mind went gloriously, deliciously blank. There was just this: him, and Yohji, and coming, and bright, sharp pleasure, and Yohji licking and stroking and purring, and the smell of cigarettes and earth and spunk, and it was all he wanted. Ever.

He didn't remember sliding to the floor, exactly, but that's where he found himself when he finally opened his eyes, leaning back against the greenhouse door, Yohji on his knees in front of him, watching him and helping himself to seconds.

"You taste good," said Yohji, licking his own hand now. "Better than me."

A laugh somehow escaped Aya's lips; he felt weak as a kitten and disturbingly... happy.

Happy?

"Sorry I didn't save you any." Yohji licked his lips, and rocked back on his heels, looking distinctly smug. "But give me half an hour and..."

"Ten minutes," croaked Aya.

"What?" Yohji's eyes were twinkling; damn, but he was beautiful. How had he not noticed how beautiful Yohji was before?

"Ten minutes. That's all you get before I'm going to drag your sorry ass upstairs to bed."

"Oh, I see." Yohji gave him a sly look. "You think you'll be able to stand by then?"

Aya searched his mind for some kind of witty response, but his brain just wasn't co-operating.

"Hn," he managed.

Yohji grinned at him, that open, sexy grin that had first greeted Aya when he woke up in Yohji's bed all those months ago.

He should have done this then. He should have just pulled Yohji in to bed with him and been done with it.

"I'm glad you came," Yohji said.

Aya snorted.

"No," Yohji laughed. "I mean, I'm glad you-"

"I know what you mean, Kudoh," said Aya. "I'm glad too."

"I wanted you for a long time. Very long time. I wasn't sure..."

"Yes," said Aya. "Me too. As well." Yohji was watching him, reading the faint regret in his eyes, that he'd - they'd - lived without this for so long.

Yohji reached out a hand, and stroked through Aya's hair.

"Better late than never, kitten," he whispered.

Aya smiled. "Yes."


End file.
